


Left Behind

by FleasCanBite



Series: Left Behind Series [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Other, death everywhere, lots of death, world war one au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:11:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleasCanBite/pseuds/FleasCanBite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is 1915 and the Battalion group known as the ABC has gotten new conscripts, this fiction does a back and forth of Private Montparnasse and Private Grantaire's experiences during camp, training, and battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the introduction chapter so it won't do the back and forth between Montparnasse's story and Grantaire's. Chapter two will bring that <3 thanks guys.  
> ~~ also ~~ happy MONTSOUS week~~~

He threw his bags down on the windowside seat. He didn't like sitting by the window, trains bothered him, made him sick to his stomach. This boy preferred his own perscribed and hazy sickness.   
The embroidered "R" on his duffle was a luxury he'd given into. Most other men at the time had full names on their bags, others even full initials. Grantaire, was the name he would go by.   
Grantaire let his body fall down to the seat and raise his chin up to the ceiling. Just six hours ago he'd been on the city streets of Paris brawling from bar to bar. Grantaire was an attractive boy, naturally, however, if you would ask anyone in town they would tell you his ugliness was "impossible!". He was the owner of a set of worn down blue eyes that were surrounded by the tinted blacks and purples that came with drunk brawlers.   
Grantaire let his eyes fall together for a moment until he heard another body sit down on the other side of the seats. His eyes sticking together, crust in his eyes that felt like earth planting him down in the ground. 

"Hello?" The person in the room asked, "You okay?". Opening his eyes Grantaire met the pale face of a stranger with the voice of a snake. 

"Oh, Hi.." Grantaire said before closing his eyes and folding his arms so he could sleep off his hangover. Instead, he felt two taps of a finger hit his shoulder. The other man, was more of a boy, however he was tall with astoundingly bright eyes and dark lips that shamed the purple tones of wine stains. 

"Montparnasse, who're you?" The man asked. Grantaire's eyes scanned him over, he was well dressed from afar, but the closer you looked the easier you could see how worn out they were, delicate stitching that he'd done to cover it up. Grantaire straightened himself up on the seat to meet the others hand.

"Names Grantaire, or just R.." Grantaire spoke with a muffled voice. "In fact, only R, forget the first formalities, we'll be getting pretty close now won't we?" Grantaire added pointing to the information board in their train car. 

It read:

* * *

  
Car 24601,  
French Militia, Batallian Group : ABC,  
New Conscripts : M. Pontmercy, G. Grantaire, R. Montparnasse

* * *

  
"Oh yeah. I nearly forgot, we're leaving to die!" Montparnasse snarled with a choke. Grantaire through his arm over the dark haired man and laughed.

"I'm glad we see things the same way" He laughed when the third member of their train car entered. 

The third member, who most've been Pontmercy was a squeemish looking boy. Thin and well dressed with quaffed dark red hair. The boy looked young, and naive, and the freckles that crowded his face made him even more childlike. 

"Marius.. Pontmercy." He spoke with a shiver. Grantaire pulled a flask out of his pocket and offered it to the shaking boy. The boy gladly grabbed it and took a long swig. 

"Hey now, Not all of it!" Grantaire yowled, Montparnasse laughed along.   
The boy sat himself down opposite the other two men. He thumbed through his own wallet and pulled out a picture of himself and a young lady. 

"This is my fiance." Pontmercy cooed smiling down at the picture and showing the other two men. Grantaire felt horrible in the pit of his stomach, it wasn't just his hangover. Seeing Pontmercy gaze at the photograph made him realize how not everyboy being sent to war was exactly as destitute as himself.

The dandy Montparnasse picked up the photo with nimble long fingers, being careful not to damage it. "She's lovely." He smiled over at Pontmercy and handed the photo back to him gently. Grantaire ruffled the freckled man's hair and laughed "Yer' not so bad yourself, Pontmercy."

Small chat about weather, train seating, and food went on for a few minutes until a knock arrived at the compact door. Montparnasse was the first one to get up, so in turn he answered the door. Looking confused at the man standing in front of him. 

"What do you want?" Montparnasse sneered at the man looking over his uniform. The man glared back at him, but his glare turned to a smile. He entered their train cart and it was obvious he had a gentle disposition. 

"Don't talk to your superior like that!" Pontmercy warned the dandy which caused the other three men to laugh. 

"Please, sit down." the man in uniform spoke to the dandy. The man had short blonde hair under a cap, dark grey eyes covered by a pair of bifocles, and a lean body. He stood tallest out of all them. "Corperal Combeferre, its a pleasure to meet you men." He spoke stern but kind to them. Combeferre looked up to the board with their names.

"Pontmercy, Grantaire, and Montparnasse am I right?" he asked.  
The men all agreed and Combeferre identified them and handed them small dog tags each. "Wear these at all times, in case we have to..  . Identify you." the man spoke grimly. Each man put them on or in their pockets. "Now, if you'd just follow me I'll take you to the rest of the ABC." Combeferre smiled at them with a wave of his hand gesturing to follow him.

The walked down the train car until exiting and entering the next. The car was probably used as a cargo piece before hand, as their was nothing in it but men and a few stacks of boxes filled with equipment and uniform.

Combeferre guided them over to a table where two boxes sat. "You'll each be getting your uniform here, you will be supplied with a second lighter layer as is sanitary." the man explained grabbing a stack out of the box. He looked through sizes and held them up to each man. "Okay, so once you get a uniform you can change in the curtained area of the car." 

Pontmercy was the first to get a uniform, his size was easy to find. He was a boy who'd filled out well due to his lifestyle at home. Combeferre had difficulties finding a size for for the dandy. Montparnasse would fuss over each one the man held up to him. 

"You're a tall, skinny kinda boy aren't you?" Combeferre chuckled trying to find a longer and smaller outfit. Montparnasse just rolled his eyes and looked annoyedly at the corperal. "Aha! Here is something that will work." he handed the dandy an outfit and smiled. Once Combeferre reached the bottom of the box he'd find a uniform for Grantaire, who was leanly muscular but shorter than the other men. "Now go get your uniforms on." he spoke kindly and directed his hand to the curtained area in the corner of the car.

The boys walked over to the curtain and began changing into uniform, the youngest of the three, Montparnasse had no problems getting undressed in front of people. Grantaire quickly hopped into his uniform. Last was a quivering Pontmercy. 

"I-I don't get undressed in front of people.." Pontmercy said nervously. He had a fear of being naked, and it was even worse if people were around. Montparnasse who had been taking his sweet time getting dressed laughed at him.

"Not even that gorgeous fiance?" the dandy teased the wealthy boy. Pontmercy instantly blushed like a young girl and covered his face with his hands, only making the dandy laugh more. Meanwhile the corperal, known as Combeferre had walked over to the curtained area to see what had been taking them so long. He put his ear up to the curtain and listened. All Combeferre would here would be the cackling of Montparnasse overlayed with Grantaire trying to calm each one down.

"So, Are we getting dressed in there or having a slumber party?" Combeferre asked sounding completely serious. The boys instantly tripped over eachother making sure they were dressed, even Pontmercy. They walked out fastly and Combeferre began to look over their uniforms making sure everything was up to status quo. Of course Pontmercy's uniform was put together perfectly and Combeferre congratulated him on it letting him go and speak with the rest of the loose soldiers in the car. However, the guide did find a problem with both the dandy and cynics uniforms. "Montparnasse, Grantaire, do you have anything to fix with your uniforms?" he asked them trying to hint at it, hopefully they'd of noticed. Montparnasse had not been wearing his red baret and shoved it in his back pocket, Grantaire had not tucked his shirt in. The boys looked themselves over before mentioning to eachother what had been wrong with the other. Combeferre nodded at their release to go and speak with the other men.

Combeferre walked over to stand next to two other soldiers. These three men were a holy trinity of the ABC. Enjolras, the leader. Courfeyrac, the centre, and Combeferre the guide.

Courfeyrac, was of strong and muscular build. With chestnut hair and matching eyes. He was the kind of guy who'd steal your girlfriend without even knowing he did so, flirtatious by nature. At one point before Courfeyrac had enlisted he was able to say that he had over twenty different mistresses. However, Courfeyrac was also warm and kind. A wide smile that lit up the room he entered. 

Combeferre, was a man who aspired to learn and find knowledge. Before he was enlisted he had just been offered a full scholorship to study at Cambridge University in the United Kingdom. He could recite the dictionary and label a body perfectly without referance, his quick wit was what made him rise to becoming corperal in his five years of being in the service. Even now, you can always find a variety of books and one notepad in his knapsack. 

Then there was Enjolras. Fair haired with a marble face. His angelic good looks were reminiscent to the myths of greek gods. The young man believed in the cival liberties and would fight over and over to free the world's people from whatever woes they may take. He was the only man who could keep up intellectually with Combeferre. Often taking the idealist's side. 

* * *

  
The car had grown more crowded with people since Combeferre lead the men he'd been assigned to look after for the orientation. There would be nine men in their batallion, and they had better get to know them well.  
By station and name the centre known as Courfeyrac read out there names to make sure each one was there. 

"Private, Gavroche Thenardier." a boy who looked too young to have been in the army walked up to the man and showed him his Identification and dog tag, Courfeyrac looked at the boy who was only on the cusp of adolescence thinking that the boy was hardly fifteen. However, they needed soldiers badly. The Thenardier boy would never have told anyone, but he'd bought a fake Identification so he could serve, he believed it was the brave and honorable thing to do as his own father had conned his way out of being conscripted.

"Private, Rielle Montparnasse." before even noticing him the dandy had swiftly walked up to the man and flashed him his identification. Montparnasse held his head high and proud dispite coming from a gutter poor family, he enjoyed the thought that nobody knew him here and that nobody had to know he was dirt in the real world. 

"Private, Marius Pontmercy." he read out the third name. The freckled faced boy walked up and smiled nervously showing him his identification and cowering down when he walked away. Not that Pontmercy wasn't brave, he was just nervous. It had taken weeks for him to get the courage to speak to his now fiance at first. At some points he'd even frightened her father with the prospect of being a possible stalker. 

"Private, Georges Grantaire." he said as Grantaire slowly moved out of the group of men, he hated being known by his full name and prefered the single letter 'R' to any shortened version or nickname. His headache was slowly leaving but soon he would wish for more liquor. Grantaire was a desperate alcoholic who's vice had taken him as a young artist away from his work.

"Private first class, Bossuet L'Aigle." A bald man walk briskly up to Courfeyrac before tripping over himself and apologizing to everyone whilst cursing his luck. The group managed to get a laugh out of him even though they were headed out to battle. Bossuet was a good sport about it and waved to the men and bowed. Courfeyrac playfully pushed the man back in with the rest of them.

"Corperal, Benard de Courfeyrac." he read out and laughed. "Oh, thats me." he said to himself checking his name off the page and chuckling to himself.

"Corperal, Entienne Combeferre." the centre read out while nobody came. He looked over to the corner to see the man reading a book hapilly. He looked from his book and rushed over to identify himself. Then went back to the corner to read again.

"Sargent, Anthonie Enjolras." the blonde stept out with a straight face and heavy step. He looked at the other men as he was their superior, but he didn't want them to feel like he was up on a pedestail from. Enjolras just radiated regality, which to him felt like a curse.  
Enjolras took the checklist from Courfeyrac and looked it over. 

"Alright, mes amis." he began looking at them. "Welcome to the ABC, I'll now have the last two men come up. They will be your specialists." he explained with seriousness in his voice as a pastey young man with an emergancy kit over his back and a larger man who looked like he could kill you with a single touch. "This is Dr. Joly, your resident medical and psyche doctor. Trust me in saying that you'll get to know him well." he said introducing the overly pale and thin doctor to the men. Enjolras signaled for the other man to come up, the man had respect for the blonde as he'd been the only man so far that hadn't been scared of him. "And this is your arms and weapons specialist, La Cubic Claquesous." he said patting the mans back with a smile and sending them off. "Now get something to eat, we'll be arriving in Versailles soon."

* * *

  
The men walked out of the train, each one inhaling the fresh air deeply. Other battalions exited other parts of the train so Combeferre guided the men to their area of the camp. 

"Alright, you can pitch up the tents and supplies we unloaded from the cargo car and then you're off for the rest of the day. Just make sure you're back here by nighttime." Combeferre instructed while speaking loud enough for them all to hear. With a tent thrown across his back he went quickly to setting his up. 

The rest of the men began to work setting their own tents up, but a pair of smokers stopped to enjoy inhaling some toxins before they started. This group being Grantaire and Montparnasse. The dandy had kept his tin from his commoner clothing and snuck it in with himself. The tin having cigarettes and god knows what else. 

"fuck.." Montparnasse sighed to himself. He knew this would be hard work, and not the sort of work he'd always been used to. The dandy lived a criminals life, whether he was conning, theiving, dealing, or murdering, he aspired to each evil vice. This was the only thing that gave him hope of surviving in the trenches later on, knowing he'd already killed his fair share of men.

Grantaire looked up at the criminal and sighed long with him. "Look, we get to pitch up tents and sit by a fire at night. Sounds just like a summer camp, i'm so excited." Grantaire said sarcastically inhaling his smoke. They hadn't noticed that most other men had finished pitching their own tents. 

Enjolras whispered something to the arms specialist Claquesous and pointed at the two men who stood smoking. They laughed with eachother before Claquesous began to walk up to them. 

"Come on ladies, stop suckin' on your smokes and pitch your tents. Everyones already finished." He said walking up to them and pullng the cigarette's from their mouths one by one. Montparnasse couldn't afford to have new cigarettes butted out and became insulted by the man.

"Why don't 'cha go fuck off.." Montparnasse hissed and dropped to the ground to dust off and put the cigarette safe away in his tin. Grantaire tried not to chuckle, the dandy was tall and thin and could probably be broken in half by someone as large as Claquesous. However, the larger man decided the best punishment to the dandy was taking his tent away from him.

"There, now you can sleep on the ground." He said tossing him only a thin wool blanket and a look of distaste. "Private Grantaire, you best set up your own tent unless you want to join Private Montparnasse on the dirt." he said with a chuckle and turned back from the two men laughing. Grantaire quickly grabbed his things together and began to pitch tent. 

* * *

  
Enjolras, the leader of the group did his rounds to see how each of the men were doing and if they had questions about what was going on. He knelt down to see what Grantaire had been doing. The cynic sketched carefully into a notebook. Enjolras was impressed to look at the others art.

"It looks like a wonderful piece, private." he said with a smile. Enjolras was stern, but he wasn't cruel. Though somedays his idealism would make the last line seem like a lie. 

"It's wondeful scenery around here, lots of people doing lots of things." he said pointing at the endless rows of batallian camps. Some men could be seen chatting with others, some would be crying and looking at photographs of loved ones, and others could be seen pissing into the next batallions ground.  
Enjolras wasn't sure how to answer him, he'd spent more time in the war than the new private had so he kept his mouth shut, it was good to see a bit of optimism until the man spoke again.

"Its a shame we're all going to die." Grantaire said casually while adding to his sketch. Enjolras stared dumbfounded at the now obvious cynic. "What? I'm not stupid, I know what awaits us on that battlefield. If you don't' get shot you'll get some desease." the artist spoke back to him. "And don't tell me to sleep on the ground like 'Parnasse because you are insulted that i'm not excited to go and die for a country that never did anything good for me." 

"I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor, I think france deserves an apology." Enjolras spoke, he was above all, a patriot. The cynic laughed under his breath, looking up towards his superior. Grantaire couldn't help but forget to listen to the man, staring blankly over him. The blonde had gone over to explain something or other to him but he couldn't help but stare. He couldn't help but imagine how the classical god known as apollo, for his knowledge and grace, must look down at the sargent with jealousy. 

"Do you know about greek myths?" Grantaire asked interupting the blonde as he spoke about the glory that was France. Enjolras crooked his head looking at him wondering where he was going with this.

"Yes, i've studied the classics. What is your point, Private?" the blonde asked. He was interested to have another possible scholor on his team. An intelligent conversation would usually pass the time away. Grantaire shifted nervously, he hardly even knew what he was doing, stood up, and walked close to the other man and pressed a kiss to his lips. Noticing the blonde looked terrified Grantaire apologized quickly then ran as fast as he could to one of the other soldiers tents and jumped in. 

"What the'ell?" Yelled the youngest soldier, Gavroche as the cynic came crashing into his tent. Grantaire looked at the young boy and ducked under his sleeping bag. "I asked y'what you were doin?" The boy asked overly annoyed. 

"Hiding." Grantaire said simply opening it so that his eyes could see. He didn't want his superior walking over to him, he wasn't even sure why he did that. He knew you were supposed to have respect and admiration for your Sargent, but that was pushing it a little bit. 

"Hidin' from what?" Gavroche asked pushing the sleeping bag out of the mans face. The artist pointed up as the blonde sargent entered the tent glaring. 

"Private Grantaire." The man spoke with power and control. "I'm going to have to ask you to go and speak to the psychiatrist over what just happened." Enjolras spoke, he'd told everyone what had happened just leaving out the part where the other man kissed him.


End file.
